


The Best Kind of Night Terror

by vials



Category: London Spy
Genre: Angst, Ghosts, M/M, it's also kind of cute in some places I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 01:12:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8424877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vials/pseuds/vials
Summary: Growing up, Alex saw ghosts. He didn't think much of it at the time, but after his death, it's an old friend that provides some unlikely comfort for Danny.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another Halloween fic, this time a little more haunting and angst heavy. The thought of little Alex roaming around that huge house was just asking for a few ghosts, really.

**1**

It was a soft giggle that woke Alex, close enough to his ear that he could feel the chill on it as he opened his eyes, shifting under the blankets and pushing himself into a sitting position. He squinted around the dark room, slowly making out shapes and shadows in the moonlight filtering in through the gap in the curtains. The room was unnaturally cold.

The giggle came again, and Alex looked in its direction, though he couldn’t see anything yet. The child yawned, tugging his blankets around him a little tighter.

“It’s cold,” he said quietly. “What? I can’t go through my clothes. Someone might hear me. I shouldn’t go out, either. I’ll get into trouble.”

Footsteps pattered across the room, and Alex felt a weight on the bed beside him. He felt a sudden chill at his wrist as his friend took hold of it, tugging at him urgently. Alex glanced around the room again, listening to the stillness of the house.

“Alright,” he said softly. “But we can’t do this every night.”

His socked feet made no sound as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Alex was an expert at moving through the room by now, finding whatever assortment of warm clothes he could reach without disturbing too much around him. He scooped up his shoes and carried them over to the door, carefully cracking it open and peering down the hallway. There was a rush of cold air as his friend darted out in front of him, and Alex waited until she returned and tugged on him again – the signal that it was all clear. 

There had been a time where Alex had tried to understand how all of this was possible. After all, he seemed to be the only one in the house who could see his friend, and any time he tried to bring up her nighttime visits he was told over and over that it was just a dream. Alex had tested it many times, too, and he knew for certain that it was no dream. Lizzie told him that adults were strange like that – that they could see her, if they wanted to, but a lot of them chose not to. Alex didn’t understand why. Lizzie said that it was because they were scared, but Alex didn’t really find anything to be afraid of on their nighttime wanderings. 

Well. Apart from the cellar, but that didn’t matter. Alex and Lizzie avoided it, and whatever was down there seemed to want to stay there. Alex had asked Lizzie a few times about it, but she always pressed her fingers to her lips and shook her head.

“He’s a mean old man,” she had said. “We stay away from him.”

“Frances made me go down into the cellar on Saturday,” Alex said, once they were out in the frost-covered grounds and no longer had to worry about being overheard. He could see Lizzie more clearly now, the moonlight glinting on her waist-length hair. She looked at him, concerned. “I didn’t see anything,” Alex added hastily. “But I didn’t like how it felt down there. She says it’s silly to be afraid of the cellar.”

“That’s because she doesn’t know what’s down there,” Lizzie said, pulling a face. “Adults are the silly ones. They never listen to children, and we’re the ones who have to see it.”

“You never tell me about who’s in the cellar,” Alex said, sighing. His breath clouded in front of him. 

“He’s mean,” Lizzie said. “He doesn’t deserve to have anybody know about him.”

“Did he do something bad?”

“Something _very_ bad.”

They crunched through the hedge maze, a pattern that Alex had memorised by now. Behind them, the house stood dark, and Alex found himself nervous of a light flicking on and someone seeing him outside at this time. He looked back at Lizzie, his curiosity still not settled. 

“You knew him,” he said, after a moment. “The man in the cellar. You knew him well, didn’t you? Was he always mean?”

Lizzie looked at him again. There wasn’t much colour to her when Alex saw her, but he didn’t need to see colours to know that her eyes were blue, like his. 

“You ask a lot of questions, Alex,” she said. 

“I know,” Alex said, unashamed. 

“Why do you think I knew him? Is it because we’re in the same house?”

“No,” Alex said, shrugging. “It’s because you seem very sad when you talk about how mean he is. Like he didn’t used to be mean. Like you think it’s sad that he’s mean now.”

“He was always mean,” Lizzie said. “I just didn’t notice at the time. Not until it was too late, anyway. Alex, do you trust adults?”

They stopped, looking at one another, and Alex noticed an urgency in Lizzie’s face that he had never noticed before. 

“Not really,” he admitted, though he felt as though he would be punished just for saying it. “A lot of them think that they know a lot more than they really do, and then they always get nasty when they realise they’re wrong. When I’m an adult, I’m going to make sure I’m never wrong.”

“You shouldn’t trust adults,” Lizzie said, kicking her toes against the gravel. None of the rocks moved. “They do think they know best, and that never ends well for us.”

“I don’t listen to them,” Alex admitted. “Not when I can get away with it, anyway.”

“Like now?” Lizzie asked, giggling, and Alex looked around at the deserted grounds and the dark sky and gave a shy smile.

“I don’t know why I have to stay in bed _all_ night,” he said. “I’m awake for most of it anyway.”

“I’ll race you to the middle,” Lizzie told him, taking off, and, giggling, Alex followed.

He was glad for the good times an hour later, sneaking up the stairs only to realise he had been caught red-handed. His bedroom light was on, and there he was, standing in the hallway with flushed cheeks, his coat on, and his shoes in his hands.

“Uh-oh,” Lizzie whispered, and Alex managed to keep any reaction off his face as his bedroom door creaked open a little further and Frances appeared in the doorway, a dressing gown tied tightly around her, a phone pressed to her ear.

“No, no, it’s fine, Lorraine. He’s here after all. I thought he might have run off down to yours. Sorry for disturbing you.”

She stepped out into the hallway and placed the phone back into its charger, before turning to look at Alex, now standing sheepishly in the hallway. There was a long moment of silence.

“Well?” she asked, folding her arms, and Alex blinked at her, wondering what his best plan of action would be. What was it that Frances always claimed these things were? Night terrors, Alex thought. It was as good a plan as any.

“There was something in my room,” he said quickly. “It ran away and I chased it.”

“You chased it, did you? And you had time to get your coat and shoes?”

Alex looked at the shoes in his hands as though he had only just seen them. “Oh.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Frances repeated. “Yes, that’s a wonderful explanation. Come over here, Alistair. For crying out loud, you’re freezing cold. It’s too cold out there to be running off like this, you know that? Get back into bed. I’m being serious now, if these night terrors don’t stop I’m going to have to look into putting a lock on your door.”

“No!” Alex protested, at the same time as Lizzie said the same thing. 

“I don’t _want_ to!” Frances said, throwing the covers over Alex. “But you’re not leaving me much of a choice, are you? I can’t have you wandering off like this all the time, Alistair. God knows what trouble you would get into, running around on your own in the middle of the night.”

“I’m not on my own,” Alex muttered, pulling a face, and Frances rolled her eyes.

“Enough of that nonsense,” she said firmly. “I’m not having this conversation on top of the bloody cellar debate from the other day. It’s a child’s imagination, Alistair. You’ll grow out of it. There’s no sense getting yourself into trouble for it now, is there?”

Alex let his eyes drift over to Lizzie, standing in the corner of his room. She smiled at him.

“ _Scared_ ,” she mouthed, and Alex set his jaw.

“I don’t want to grow out of it,” he said.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Alistair.”

“It’s _boring_ , being scared of things you can’t see.”

Frances looked at him for a moment, and then shook her head, looking almost amused.

“It pays to know what to ignore, Alistair,” she said. “Now, go back to sleep. Goodnight.”

**2**

“Do you believe in ghosts?” Danny asked, rolling over slightly so he could see Alex properly. “I mean, I don’t think you do, because it doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you would believe in. But I guess I wonder. You didn’t scoff at those horror movies earlier as much as I thought you would.”

Alex turned his head slightly to look back at him, wondering what he should say. Danny was looking at him curiously, and Alex got the feeling that he could tell him anything and he would believe him without question. It was perhaps one of Danny’s best and worst qualities.

“Do you?” he asked, and Danny laughed.

“That’s cheating,” he said. “You can’t ask me to make a fool of myself before you do, and I asked first.”

“So you do believe in them,” Alex said.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you said you would make a fool of yourself, and I doubt that you would feel foolish for saying that you didn’t believe in them. So you must.”

“Alright,” Danny said, laughing again. “I admit it. I might believe in ghosts a bit.”

“Me too,” Alex said, and there was a brief pause before Danny sat up slightly, propped on an elbow, looking at him in disbelief. 

“Really?” he asked. “Like, you’re not pulling my leg?”

“I’m not pulling your leg,” Alex said, giving a small smile. “I believe in ghosts.”

“I didn’t expect that.”

“I don’t think many people would.”

“I mean, this is coming from the man who doesn’t even believe in soulmates,” Danny teased, and Alex looked at him, smiling.

“Of course not,” he said. “There’s no solid proof for the existence of just one single person meant for you and you alone.”

“And there’s proof of the existence of ghosts?” Danny asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, there must be. If you believe in them. Have you ever seen one?”

“Not like, stereotypically,” Danny said, shifting a little closer and laying down properly again. “Like, no creepy woman in white wandering down castle halls or anything like that. But I’ve seen weird things. And I’ve felt really weird things, too. I used to see ghosts all the time as a kid, but my parents would tell me it was just my imagination. I knew it wasn’t, though. You can’t imagine things like that, you know? And there would be other proof, too. Things moving or going missing, or animals reacting, too. When I got older I stopped seeing them as often but I still do sometimes.”

“Have you seen any recently?” Alex asked.

“Yeah,” Danny said, grinning. “I was out walking and I stopped at the park to smoke for a while. It was about one in the morning and I was sitting on the swings. I heard the park gate creak open and then shut, and clear as anything I saw this dark figure walking towards me. It got a little way in front of me, about level with the slide, and then just… sort of dissolved into nothing. It was kind of unnerving, but I didn’t feel scared.”

“A lot of ghosts mean no harm,” Alex said, and Danny nodded, before laughing.

“I can’t believe I’m having a serious discussion about ghosts and you’re not taking the piss out of me,” he said. “It’s weird.”

“I believe in things I see proof of,” Alex said simply. “I don’t think that’s unusual.”

“So, go on then,” Danny said. “What ghosts have you seen? If you believe in things you’ve seen proof of, you must have seen some of your own.”

“I have,” Alex said. “Though, it’s been a while since I saw a proper ghost. Now I’m older, it’s more like what you described. Shadows or movement, or the aftermath where things have been moved. I used to see ghosts a lot when I was younger. I lived in a very old house. There were a few ghosts around the place. I never thought it was odd, but my mother and father were absolutely certain there was nothing there, even if they must have noticed oddities sometimes.”

“What kind of ghosts?” Danny asked. “Anything really good? Like, a proper apparition or anything? I always wondered what those would be like, you know, to see undeniably. I think I saw a few as a child, but I can’t be sure how much of it was legit and how much is me filling in the blanks now I’m older.”

“There were three I would see often,” Alex said, staring up at the ceiling as he spoke. He had never told anyone else about them before, but strangely, it didn’t seem like such a big deal to tell Danny. “There was a woman that I would see only sometimes, who would wander around in the grounds outside. She always seemed very sad, and she never approached anyone. There was a man who stayed down in the cellar, and he was unpleasant. He was the only one that ever made me feel threatened. Finally, there was a little girl around my own age at the time, and I remember her very clearly. Everyone said she was a dream or an imaginary friend, but I don’t believe them. She was very real, and she would even speak to me. I talked to her quite a lot. She had waist-length hair and blue eyes. Her name was Elizabeth, but I called her Lizzie.”

He glanced at Danny, who was looking at him with a fond smile on his face.

“You know, if they’re still around, you could get some seriously cool research from it,” he said, and Alex gave a small smile.

“I don’t think I would want to. It seems a little rude. I don’t think most people are ready for that kind of thing.”

“Oh?”

“No. Why else would everyone try to deny it using any means necessary? The mental gymnastics my mother used to go through to explain away what she must have known had truth to it was ridiculous. I always said to myself that when I was an adult, I wouldn’t do such things.”

“And I suppose you stayed true to that?” Danny asked, and Alex nodded.

“Of course. There are worse things to admit to yourself than the fact you saw a ghost.”

**3**

Danny’s first impression had been right – it really was the loneliest room he had ever been in. He lay awake in bed, tossing and turning and eventually staring straight up, wishing sleep would come but knowing it wouldn’t. He sighed, shifting slightly, wondering how rude it would be if he simply wandered around all night. The house was big enough that he was sure he wouldn’t run into anyone, but it was also strange and cold and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to take that risk.

Something snapped him abruptly out of his thoughts, and Danny suddenly became very aware of the sensation of eyes on him. His skin prickled slightly and he propped himself up on his elbows, expecting to see someone standing in the doorway. There was nothing there, the doors still firmly shut, and the dim light making its way in through the gap in the curtains revealed nothing to explain the feeling. Still, Danny couldn’t shake it.

He pushed himself up so he was sitting properly, his eyes darting around the room, trying to locate where the feeling was coming from. He was sure of it now, sure that someone was watching him, and somewhere in the back of his mind a memory was jogged loose, something from a conversation had what seemed like forever ago.

“Hello?” he asked quietly, and something in the atmosphere changed, as though whoever was watching him was surprised that they had been caught. Danny swallowed, fighting back the urge to feel ridiculous. “I know you’re there. I can feel you watching me. You must be wondering who I am. I’m Danny. I’m – I knew Alex. I think he told me about you.”

Danny was sure he saw something then; a flash of movement in the corner by the door. He felt his heart kick up pace in his chest, a mixture of excitement and apprehension. It was one thing to believe in the existence of ghosts, another thing to see shadows here and there, and something else entirely to know he was most certainly in the room with someone he couldn’t see.

He could hear something now, something that sounded like soft footsteps, as though someone were creeping closer and didn’t want to be caught. He stared in the direction of the noise until he stopped, feeling eyes most certainly on him now. He was sure he could hear whispering, too, but it sounded distorted, as though it were coming to him while he was underwater. He tried to tune in, remembering how easy it had been to hear such things as a child.

“ _—bout m—_?”

Danny frowned, going over what he had said in search of clues. Finally it clicked in his head, and he nodded, finding himself suddenly excited.

“He told me about you,” he repeated. “He said you were his age when he knew you. He said you had long hair and blue eyes. He told me your name was Lizzie.”

He felt another change in the atmosphere, something that was almost excitable, happy, even. Danny couldn’t help but feel swept up in it; he was unable to keep from smiling. 

“You’re happy he remembered you, aren’t you?” he asked. He could feel the voice in his head again, the tone almost urgent, as though looking for undeniable confirmation that he could understand.

“ _—adult— forget. Don’t—see_.”

“He didn’t forget you,” Danny said. “And not all of us stop being able to tell you’re there. We just get a little bit worse at it, that’s all. But you are here, aren’t you? You’re real.”

Quite suddenly, Danny felt his eyes burn with tears. He blinked rapidly, though he still couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. His blinking didn’t do him much good, and he could feel wet tracks on his cheeks. Evidently Lizzie had noticed; Danny felt the side of the bed sag slightly as though someone small and light had climbed up beside him.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I don’t know. It just hit me, I suppose, that you knew him too.”

“ _Friend._ ”

“Yeah,” Danny said, smiling tearfully. “He told me he didn’t have a lot of those. You must have meant a lot to him.”

“ _—ver leave. Not really_.”

Danny frowned, trying to make sense of it.

“You think I might see him again?” he asked. “Like—like this? I don’t know. I don’t want to live waiting for something that might not happen.”

“ _What if_?”

“Well, I guess I’d be very lucky,” Danny said, managing another smile. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope. I suppose there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Danny wasn’t sure how long they sat in silence for after that, but the next thing he knew he was waking up and had somehow found his way back under the covers in his sleep. For a moment he almost fell into the trap of wondering if it was just a dream, but he shook the thoughts away, knowing there was no way that could be true. He got the feeling it was still early – it wasn’t properly light yet, and the house still felt sleepy – but he found himself restless and quickly got up, finding something warm to wear and wandering through the hallways and down the stairs. It was his sense of smell that lead him through to the kitchen, and he was relieved that his presence didn’t seem to be unwanted. 

“I’m not interrupting, am I, Lorraine?” he asked, just to make sure, and the older woman shook her head.

“So long as you keep out of the way,” she said, turning to glance at him. He saw something register on her face and she quickly turned away again. “Good Heavens.”

“What?” Danny asked, genuinely confused.

“You saw her, didn’t you?” Lorraine asked simply, and Danny blinked.

“What, you mean – you see her too?” he asked, knowing it was no use trying to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about.

“I suppose there’s no sense denying it to you, is there?” Lorraine asked. “Whatever you do, don’t mention it to Frances. She’ll not be happy. I always pretended like I didn’t notice what was going on, but Alex had to get it from somewhere.”

“You see ghosts too, then?”

“This place is full of them,” Lorraine said, turning around and leaning against the counter as she looked at him. “A lot of them have moved on over the years, but Lizzie is still here. I wondered if she would pay you a visit. She’s always curious about people going into Alex’s room. It used to be hers, when she lived here.”

Danny smiled, before shaking his head and laughing. “This is surreal. I thought I was the only one who genuinely believed in this kind of thing. I thought most other people were humouring me.”

“It’s more common than people will have you know,” Lorraine said. “Personally I feel sorry for those who don’t believe in it.”

It would have been a casual comment if not for the context. They stared at one another for a moment, Danny’s throat suddenly tight from the tears he hadn’t cried the night before, Lorraine’s eyes suddenly glistening.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Danny asked quietly. “To have someone else who knew him.”

“It is,” Lorraine said, sniffing, and then she turned back to the food. She didn’t speak for several moments, and when she finally did, it sounded as though it was taking her some effort. “I’m glad he wasn’t by himself up here. Not really. That he had someone with him, even if most people didn’t believe him.”

“He wouldn’t have let what other people thought stop him,” Danny said, managing a smile. 

“And you’re the same, aren’t you? I do hope it’s worth the trouble.”

“Some things always are.”


End file.
